Of A Worthless Grandson
by Khgirl08
Summary: "I thought you would be proud of me...I thought I was living up to my parents' names." Augusta wants nothing more than to see her son's good name upheld. Neville fails to live up to her expectations. -Set during the final chapters of Order of the Phoenix. Four chapters. More or less canon-compliant.-
1. Chapter 1

The kettle shrieked and the mirror snorted when Augusta walked into her kitchen. The elderly witch ran a finger through her hair to tame it, hoping to soothe the mirror's temper before it got started. "It's only six in the morning."

"But if you would _only_ wear curlers to bed at night-"

"I haven't worn curlers for _years_, thank you very much." Augusta sat heavily at her table and waved her wand at the stove; the kettle immediately turned off and poured its contents into a cup. The cup floated to the table to join Augusta, who added a cube of sugar and stirred the tea with her wand.

She had yet to take a sip when an owl soared through her window and dropped a tightly furled sheaf of parchment in front of her. "Who could possibly be writing so early?" The owl gave no answer but left as suddenly as it had arrived.

Pushing her tea aside, Augusta unwrapped the roll of parchment and clacked her tongue in disgust. "The Daily Prophet? I cancelled my subscription months…"

Her eyes had caught the headline just before she threw the newspaper into the fire: "He Who Must Not Be Named Returns." She quickly unfolded the rest of the paper and read the article as fast as her old eyes allowed…seen at the Ministry…Death Eaters captured…the Boy Who Lived and five friends involved in take down… It seemed the country had finally realized as true what she had believed for over a year. A little late for Augusta's taste, maybe, but good all the same.

But Harry Potter and his friends at the Ministry? How would six students get from Hogwarts to London, and why would they do it? Augusta set down the paper and cupped her chin, musing. She would bet a good deal of money that the two Weasleys and the Granger girl who had been in Frank and Alice's ward would have joined Potter, but that left two more students. Certainly, her Neville would never have joined Potter in anything dangerous. He was too nervous, too weak to live up to his parents' streak of adventure.

A loud banging on her back door interrupted her thoughts. "Augusta? Are you awake in there?"

"Just a moment!" she cried, standing and wrapping her dressing gown tighter around her night clothes. She walked slowly to the door, wondering for the second time that morning who would want to speak with her so early. A peek through the eyepiece showed Alastor Moody, of all people, waiting impatiently on her back patio. "Alastor! Come in."

"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast," he growled, stumping inside and throwing himself on a kitchen chair. "I wanted to be the one to tell you the news…though it appears the Prophet may have beaten me to it." His magical eye drifted to the paper.

"If you mean what happened at the Ministry last night, yes, I'm afraid the Daily Prophet did inform me already. Would you like a cup of tea? I have plenty," she said, gesturing at the stove.

"Not right now. Busy day ahead, you know. Had to get special permission from Dumbledore to come over at all." Moody stretched out his false leg and groaned. "I've just come from St. Mungo's, visiting Ted Tonks' daughter. She was one of three of the Order who lost to Bellatrix Lestrange last night."

"Bellatrix Lestrange was there?" whispered Augusta. She picked up the paper and scoured it for the captured Death Eaters. But all of them were men…Malfoy, Jugson, Dolohov, Rookwood… "Why didn't you get her, Alastor? Why is that evil excuse for a woman still free?!"

"I had my hands full with Dolohov, his stint in Azkaban did nothing to temper his cursing ability. Knocked me out for a bit, and when I came to Sirius was dueling Bellatrix and Tonks was lying in a heap, so I went to make sure she was alright." Moody's worn face suddenly looked older than ever. "I should have gone to help Sirius instead, but how could I have known?"

"Known what?"

"Didn't they print that in the Prophet? Nah, probably too much bad news for one edition. Sirius Black died fighting Bellatrix-" Augusta gasped at this "-and Kingsley got glanced by a nasty curse, but he'll be alright. Lestrange got away after that."

"That's terrible," she whispered. "Were there any other deaths?"

"No. Like I said, Tonks is in the hospital for a while, and I think a couple of Potter's friends will be kept in the hospital wing at Hogwarts for a while, and I think Poppy's planning to release the other three later today, but other than that…"

"Alastor, do you know who the kids were? And why they were there at all?" Augusta put her hands around her cup of tea, hoping to get any extra warmth from it. "The Prophet didn't say a word about the other students."

Moody raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Didn't they? Ah, well, that doesn't much surprise me. Well, the two in the hospital are Arthur Weasley's youngest son and Potter's friend Granger. Weasley was hit with a bad Confundus and got attacked by some brains in the Department of Mysteries, and from what I understand Granger Silenced a Death Eater just before he used Sectumsempra on her, so it didn't do as much damage as it could have but still managed to hurt her pretty badly."

"And the others?"

"Well, the Weasley daughter had a broken ankle, nothing too severe, and another girl, think she might be Xenophilius Lovegood's daughter from the looks of her, got knocked out, but she's fine now. And, of course, you know who the last one is." Moody smiled suddenly, his gash of a mouth widening grotesquely.

"I beg your pardon, but I haven't a clue," Augusta replied, though a strange feeling began to rise in her stomach.

"Did no one write you last night? I thought for sure Poppy would have, though maybe she was too busy with Weasley and Granger…"

"You don't mean to say that _Neville_-"

"Yeah, I guess that's exactly what I mean. Neville was the only kid who was able to fight the whole time, aside from Potter." Moody's smile slid from his face. "You really didn't know?"

"But Neville would never be able to do that!" she blurted out, knocking her tea over as she stood up. "He hasn't got the guts his parents had, nor the brains or skills-"

"Get on up to Hogwarts, then, and see for yourself. I really need to get a move on, but before I do…Augusta, when I got down to the Department of Mysteries last night, I saw something remarkable. Two men, one on the ground and one above him, trying to protect him…I thought for a moment that I saw Frank Longbottom and James Potter. It happened again, just after Sirius' death; for a split second, I thought Remus was speaking with James and Frank, not Harry and Neville."

"Neville looks nothing like his father, he has his mother's features-"

"And his father's expressions, and stance, and build. You need to take a look at your grandson and see him for what he really is. I suggest you do that when you get to Hogwarts." Moody shook his mane of hair out of his eyes and stood. "I really need to go, there are a lot of people who need filled in about last night."

With that, he stumped back out of the house and slammed the door. Augusta stared at the oak paneling until her mirror spoke once more. "You can't go out looking like that, Dearie."


	2. Chapter 2

When Augusta was dressed and groomed to her mirror's approval, she Apparated to Hogwart's gates and pressed the call button on the side. A voice spoke from the lock. "Name and business."

"Augusta Longbottom, I'm visiting my grandson Neville in the Hospital Wing." The gates opened silently for her, and she began the trek up the path to the school's front doors.

Many students gawked at her as she strode through their midst, and she even heard a few of the older ones whispering something about Professor Snape. Having no idea why they would be comparing her to the Potions Master, she ignored them, choosing to march straight to the Hospital Wing. A blonde girl walked out with a red head who Augusta knew to be Ginevra Weasley as the old witch neared the door, and both stopped immediately.

"Excuse me, aren't you Neville's Gran?" asked Ginevra.

"Yes," Augusta said shortly. The blonde's protuberant eyes widened, but she said nothing. "Is my grandson still in there?"

"Yeah. Madame Pomfrey won't let him go yet, says he's still a bit weak from the battle." Augusta nodded and started towards the door, but Ginevra coughed softly. "Please, try not to be very loud. My brother and Hermione Granger still haven't woken up since the battle, and goodness knows Harry needs all the sleep he can get, after Sirius…"

"I'll do that." With that, the two young girls left, and Augusta pushed open the heavy doors of the hospital wing.

A witch with a neat gray bun not unlike Augusta's was laying out an array of potions next to a girl with frizzy brown hair, who looked much paler than the Granger girl she had seen on Christmas. On one side of her lay a sleeping red head, on the other another boy with messy black hair. And on _his_ other side…

"Gran? What are you doing here?" Neville's eyebrows disappeared under his hair, which was getting too long for his soft face. How Alastor could think this expression resembled Frank was beyond her.

"Oh, Mrs. Longbottom," said the nurse. "May I have a word with you for a moment?"

"I'm here to see my-"

"I know, but I assure you that he won't be going anywhere until after lunch at least. He's still a bit shaky," she whispered loudly. Neville rolled his eyes behind her, earning a fierce glare from Augusta. "Just a moment?"

"Very well, a moment." Augusta allowed the nurse to lead her into a cozy office and shut the door behind her. "He didn't fare well in the battle, I take it?"

"Well, I can't be sure, because I've yet to hear him say a thing about the battle himself, but Remus Lupin certainly seemed to be proud of him when he helped bring in all of them last night. Something about Neville hitting Lucius Malfoy with a Tickling Jinx so strong that he couldn't cast another spell." Madam Pomfrey sat behind her desk and massaged her temples. "He was certainly injured. One of the Death Eaters kicked in the face hard enough to shatter his nose and most of his right cheekbone."

"But Alastor told me that he kept fighting until the end of the battle…was it after he jinxed Malfoy?" Augusta was keeping a straight face for the nurse, but her mind was churning. _Neville took down Lucius Malfoy with a Tickling Jinx? How strong was it?_

"No, Remus said he was already injured when the Order arrived."

"You mean the kids were there without the Order?" Augusta said angrily.

"Yes. From what I understand, You-Know-Who was able to trick Potter into going to the Ministry to save Sirius Black, and the other five refused to stay behind. Of course, it was all a trick, Black only went to the Ministry with the other Order members after the fact. It was all a bit foolish."

"Foolish, yes, but also brave. I'd expect nothing less from Gryffindors, although I was always surprised that Neville made that house."

"Miss Lovegood is actually a Ravenclaw, I believe," sighed Madam Pomfrey. "That's not why I wanted to talk with you. You may be wondering why I have thus refused to allow your grandson to leave."

"Well, he's never had much stamina, and I suppose a weak boy like him would be wholly unable to stand too much strain without becoming overly exhausted. It hardly surprises me…What are you staring at?" For Madam Pomfrey was giving Augusta such a look that her eyes appeared to be nothing but slits.

"Your grandson is not the same boy who fell off his broomstick five years ago, Mrs. Longbottom." Far from the sweet, tired voice the nurse had been using to this point, this new tone was clipped and brittle. "I suppose you heard about Dumbledore being fired because of the student group called Dumbledore's Army?"

"Yes, of course, but what-"

"Did you know that your grandson was a part of it? And that since that group began, even Professor McGonagall has seen improvement in his marks? Professor Flitwick told me yesterday at breakfast how he had watched some of the Defense OWL practicals, and your grandson was the best he watched. Apparently, Filius would have marked him the same as Miss Granger, which is a feat many students will never achieve."

Augusta's mouth was hanging slightly open. "My grandson, a part of an illegal organization? But he mentioned _nothing_ over break…"

"Neville is far from weak. The only reason I'm keeping him here until this afternoon is to give a chance for the shaking to leave his hands…the adrenaline helped him keep it together in the battle, but once that wore off the poor boy couldn't stop trembling. He was tortured last night."

"Excuse me?!"

"He refuses to talk about the battle, but I know the symptoms of the Cruciatus Curse when I see them. Potter did the same thing last year after seeing You-Know-Who return, though I think he was so horrified he scarcely noticed."

Augusta didn't wait to hear anything more; she turned and stormed out of the office and straight to Neville's bed. Her grandson swallowed nervously and looked at the ceiling as she stood rigidly at his head. "Gran?"

"Who did it?"

"What do you-"

"Neville Longbottom, you tell me this _instant_ who used the Cruciatus Curse on you!"

"Gran, you're going to wake up-"

"I DON'T CARE!" she shrieked. She heard the occupant of the bed behind her stirring, but she was so angry that she took no heed. "WHO DID IT?!"

Neville swallowed again and looked at his hands, which Augusta noticed were still trembling. "…la…st…"

"Speak up!"

"B-Bellatrix Lest-strange." Neville finally met her eyes. She expected them to be swimming with tears, but they were fierce. Angry. They were her son's eyes. "Bellatrix Lestrange did it, and I don't care who knows. Bellatrix Lestrange realized who my parents were and wanted to see if I would break, too," he said quietly.

Augusta stumbled backwards and collapsed into a chair facing his bed. Bellatrix Lestrange had almost taken her grandson, her last link to Frank, from her. She had almost lost the only part of her son she still had.

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Longbottom," whispered a voice behind her. She jumped up and turned to see Harry Potter sitting up in his bed, his eyes bloodshot and his hair wild. "It's my fault Bellatrix attacked him. I had something she wanted, and she knew that if she attacked my friends I would give anything to stop her."

"So you dragged my grandson to the Ministry of Magic on a fool's errand, knowing he was incompetent to fight on his own, and you got him tortured, and all you do is apologize?" she spat. "You're nothing like your father, either."

"Neville was the second fastest learner in Dumbledore's Army, so I actually don't know what you mean by saying he can't fight!" Harry said angrily.

"How would you know? And you call using the Tickling Jinx fighting? He got in a lucky shot on Malfoy is all."

"His nose was broken, he couldn't cast most spells because he couldn't pronounce the incantations properly!" Harry looked like he wanted to jump out of bed, but he remained in his seated position. "I know he can Stun people and blow things up and create barriers and all of it, because I taught him to do all that."

"Harry, it's alright." Augusta turned back around to see her son smiling sadly at her. No, her son's cheeks were never so full, nor was his nose so narrow…but Neville looked so like him in that moment. "Gran, I'm alright. I'm still here."

Her eyes filled with tears and she fell back into the chair with a sob, covering her face.

"Er…"

"Gran, Bellatrix tortured me, it's true. But she only did it for a minute or so, and it was really because Harry wouldn't-because I wouldn't let Harry give up the prophecy to her and the other Death Eaters. Once my hands stop trembling, I'll be just fine."

"You could have- she could have- you should have- Oh, Neville!" Augusta felt a large, shaking hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up her grandson was still smiling at her.

"Please don't go blaming Harry, or yourself, or Hogwarts, or anyone else for me being there last night. I forced him to take me, I made that choice, and I made the choice to keep fighting even against losing odds."

Augusta snorted and pushed his hand away from her. "Terrible decisions on your part." She heard Harry growl under his breath behind her, but didn't acknowledge him. "You should have known that you wouldn't be strong enough to fight Death Eaters. Stupid, honestly."

Neville recoiled as if she had slapped him or suggested that her brother drop him from the window again. "I thought you would understand," he whispered.

"Understand? Do you have some sort of death wish or something? Do you come to school each year with a list of things you can do to make my life harder?" Neville was shrinking further and further away as her anger rose. "Falling from your broom because you're too clumsy to ride it normally, letting a convicted murderer steal your passwords because you're too stupid to remember them, getting strung by your robes from a chandelier because you don't know how to stop pixies! And now you go running off to the Ministry with a gang of school kids to fight the very people who tortured your parents into insanity?!"

"I thought you would be proud of me…" Neville whispered. "I thought I was living up to my parents' names."

"You will _never_ live up to your father's name!" she screeched, and before her grandson could say anything more she jumped to her feet and stalked out. She had only made it a few paces past the hospital wing when she was intercepted by a long grey beard and flowing purple robes. "What do you want now, Albus? Come to recruit my grandson for more death missions?"

"Not at all, Augusta. I merely wanted to talk to you for a few minutes." Without asking for permission, Dumbledore took her elbow and guided her through the halls silently. When they approached his office, he released her and sighed. "I did hope you would be more understanding, Augusta."

"Bah," she muttered.

"Licorice Wands."

"Excuse me?" She realized too late that it was the password to his office, and she stepped onto the moving staircase feeling like a foolish schoolgirl going to be punished.


	3. Chapter 3

When they reached the door of his office, it swung open of its own accord to reveal a tall, dark man and Remus Lupin, both of whom stood to greet her. "Augusta, it's been too long," said Remus kindly. "Have you met Kingsley Shacklebolt? He's prominent in the Auror Department. Kingsley, this is Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother."

"How do you do?" she said curtly.

"Well, thank you. Your son and his wife are famous in the department. After watching Neville last night, I can see why," said Kingsley. Augusta rolled her eyes and snorted angrily.

"Please, sit down. We have some things to discuss." The three men sat down at Dumbledore's words, but Augusta remained standing with her arms crossed, feeling every bit as vulture-like as the bird on her cap.

"I have nothing to say to you, Albus. You've already lost me Frank and Alice, and last night you nearly stole Neville away, too. I highly doubt he'll be returning to school here next year, it's obviously too dangerous for Longbottoms to be under your influence."

"Augusta-" Lupin started, but she held up a hand and continued.

"You're here to tell me that Neville joined your little army of his own accord, I'm sure, but you know and I know that as a fifteen-year-old student, he wasn't allowed to make that sort of decision. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Albus." Augusta straightened her hat and nodded curtly. "I'll need to be off, then, maybe see if Neville can be transferred to Beauxbatons or one of the other schools."

"Augusta, I think you're overreacting a bit. Besides, you haven't heard the story properly yet." Remus gestured to the chair between himself and Kingsley. "Please, sit down."

Clacking her tongue in disgust, she sat but continued to glower at Dumbledore. The headmaster's face seemed to have aged fifty years since she had last seen it. "Get on with it, then."

"I was never a part of Dumbledore's Army, for starters." Augusta's jaw dropped slightly. "The name was, if I am not mistaken, a suggestion of Ginny Weasley's, meant to bring about a feeling of resistance to Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry by representing what the students correctly supposed she feared the most. The organization was supposed to be kept secret from all staff and family, but since they chose to have their first meeting in my brother's bar within earshot of Mundungus Fletcher and a spy for the Ministry it didn't remain a secret for long."

"Well I-"

"Every student who joined did so of their own accord, whether it be because of a loyalty to Harry Potter or a desire for knowledge that Professor Umbridge was not providing. I believe Neville joined to support his friend, but all accounts of his grades and O.W.L. examinations suggest that he received a great boost of confidence from the club."

"More like someone finally figured out how to penetrate his thick skull," Augusta muttered.

Remus shook his head angrily. "The thickness of Neville's skull has nothing to do with this conversation, Augusta. That boy has always been capable, when given the right circumstances under which to work. When I taught him during his third year, I saw under that shell of non-prowess he had developed and saw something that thoroughly reminded me of Frank. The poor boy didn't know how to believe in his abilities, and a bad wand didn't exactly help matters."

Augusta straightened her back. "Neville uses his father's wand, thank you very much. It was more than adequate in the hands of a competent wizard, which Neville has proved himself to not be again and again."

"No. Neville has all the competence in the world, if last night is any indication. He managed to get Lucius Malfoy with an incapacitating Tickling Charm, and he blocked one of Rookwood's curses with an incredible shield." Kingsley narrowed his eyes. "He wasn't even using his wand."

"His father's wand? Why not?"

"It was broken when his face was smashed." Remus looked pointedly at Kingsley, who pulled a piece of cloth from his robes and handed it gingerly to Augusta. "The Aurors found the pieces when they were assessing the damage."

"He let this wand be broken?" Augusta whispered. "After I trusted him to keep it safe?"

"If I may, Augusta, maybe this is for the best. You see, if Neville is not forced to use this wand which seems so unsuitable for him, his magic will continue to flourish. Of course, it would help if you showed some confidence in him." Dumbledore pressed his fingertips together. "Last night, as Remus here was trying to help him to the Hospital Wing, he refused to leave until he knew that all of his friends had been attended to. Miss Granger in particular seemed to be of great worry to him."

"He blamed himself for not helping her, I think. He probably still does. When I left him to Madam Pomfrey's care, the last thing he said to me was an apology for not being strong enough." Remus ran a hand through his hair. "He had been tortured and stood to fight another day; many a more experienced wizard had fallen, yet he was worried that he hadn't performed adequately. There's only one person to be blamed in this situation, Augusta." Three sets of eyes fell on her, and she swelled in anger.

"Are you accusing me of hurting Neville?!"

"Yes. Not irreparably, but yes." Standing suddenly, Dumbledore strode across his office to a small cabinet filled with photographs. He selected on from the second shelf from the bottom and brought it back, frowning. "The boy in this picture is not the same one who came to Hogwarts ten years later, and only so many could be held responsible," he said sadly as he passed it to her.

Augusta took the photo with a scoff, but blanched when she saw the subjects behind the glass. Four adults stood around a playpen, laughing as the two baby boys within levitated small toys towards one another with gummy smiles. Frank and Alice were holding hands, staring at their son with so much love that she felt her heart light up with joy. Finally, however, she snorted and handed it back to Dumbledore with a scornful expression. "I don't see how this is at all relevant, Albus."

"You repeatedly reported that Neville was almost Squib-like in his abilities, yet the opposite was true at this age. How is it that a one-year-old boy who was able to control magic so well was utterly incapable of showing magic until he was dropped from an upstairs window?"

"He-he was traumatized as an infant," she stammered. "They say that in cases like that-"

"In cases like that, a little extra nurturing may be required. Pushing young boys off of piers and trying to force them to make your garden grow larger isn't nurture."

"Frank was able to do all of those things at a very young age!"

It was Remus who now jumped up with a shout: "Neville is not Frank! He will never be Frank!"

"I'm glad you agr-"

"He is Neville and _no one_ but Neville!" A heavy silence permeated the office, interrupted only by Remus's gasps for air. Finally, he sat back down and buried his head in his hands. "Just because he looks like his mother doesn't make him Alice; just because he's Frank's son doesn't make him Frank. He is his own person, a combination of his parents and his upbringing, and nothing you do or say will change that fact."

Augusta stared at him for a moment before looking down at the wand fragments in her hands. "But he's all I have left of my Frank," she said quietly.

"So cherish him, Augusta, cherish the family you still have left rather than a fantasy of one who has moved on," suggested Dumbledore. "Now, I'm going to suggest you go home and have a nice cup of tea. Neville will return on the Hogwarts Express on schedule."

Augusta looked up from her lap to see all three men staring at her. It was clear that Dumbledore's "suggestion" was more of an order. "Fine. Good day," she muttered as she stood.

"Oh, and Augusta?" said Kingsley as she reached for the doorknob. "Maybe you should think about what we said. For Neville's sake." She straightened her back, gave one curt nod without turning, and swept through the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Three days later, Augusta found herself tapping her foot impatiently on Platform 9 and ¾. The train should have arrived precisely one minute and twenty seven seconds ago, according to the large clock above the entryway, and everyone waiting on the platform had noticed it. Now people were muttering about Death Eater attacks and Dementors and everything else bad, but Augusta knew better. It was simply a case of bad weather near the border of Scotland that had made the train slow down a bit.

As soon as the clock ticked to two minutes past the hour, the whistle of the express echoed from around the curve. Most people still muttered nervously until they saw students begin to disembark from the scarlet cars, alive and mostly intact. While most ran forward to greet their children with anxious hugs and cries of joy, Augusta stayed in her spot by the nearest pillar to the entrance, thinking about what she would say to her grandson. She had yet to apologize to him, and wasn't yet sure if she would, but she knew that she had to acknowledge their parting terms somehow.

"Hello, Augusta," said someone to her left. Augusta turned to see Molly Weasley smiling at her from underneath a shock of red frizz. "I bet you're anxious to see that grandson of yours again, especially considering everything that's happened."

Augusta grunted under her breath. "And how are your two? If I recall, your youngest son was hurt rather badly when I went to see Neville."

"Oh, they're doing fine, though Ron may well have some scarring from those brains. Ginny wrote me and said that his forearms still hurt, but he wouldn't say anything to Madame Pomfrey about it. Oh, speaking of, there they are!"

"Where?" growled a familiar voice from Molly's other side. Augusta peered around Mrs. Weasley and was startled to see Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, and a girl who she couldn't place alongside Mr. Weasley, the twins, and two people who absolutely reeked of being Muggles. "Are they coming this way or do we need to go to them?"

"They see us, don't worry," said one of the twins. Soon enough, Potter, the Weasleys, and the Granger girl broke their way through the mass of students with their pets and trunks in tow. Augusta turned back to the train and saw Neville and the blond girl from the hospital wing coming towards her.

"Hi, Gran. This is my friend Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is my Gran-"

"Mrs. Longbottom, if you please," she said curtly, sticking a hand out to Luna. Luna took it limply and shook it slightly.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Longbottom. You've done well at training Neville to repel Blibbering Humdingers, which can be quite handy around exam time." Luna's pale eyes were far too round, and her smile far too dreamy, but something about her face struck Augusta with familiarity.

"You'll be Xeno's daughter, then? I know your mother. She was in Hogwarts with my Frank." Luna's expression was pained for a moment, but she recovered quickly.

"That's nice. Unfortunately, she's no longer with us. It's just me and Daddy now. Speaking of…" Luna looked to her left, where her father was standing on tiptoe to search the crowds. "I should probably go to him now. He wants to take me out for a celebratory dinner in Muggle London. Have a lovely summer, Neville!" Luna stood on her toes to peck Neville on the cheek before skipping off to her father.

Neville put his hand on his cheek and stared after her in bemusement, and Augusta clacked her tongue. "Honestly, boy, she didn't say she loved you or anything!"

"Right," he said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he turned back to his grandmother. "Well, shall we go, then?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose it's about that time." Neville started towards the entryway, but Augusta put a hand on his shoulder before he could get very far. "Neville, I…"

"What is it, Gran?"

It was Augusta's turn to flush. "I…I know you're never going to be Frank."

Neville's eyes hardened. "Thanks for that."

"But Neville, that's okay." The anger in Neville's eyes softened slightly. "I've had some time to think through what happened that night, and even before that, and I guess…I guess I realized I've been unfair to you. You managed to stay alive and intact during that battle, which is something I hadn't expected from you. Perhaps I…perhaps I underestimated you. I do want you to know, though, that I'm very proud of you, even if I think it was stupid."

Neville's eyes were shining by now, and he quickly wiped them on his sleeve. "That means a lot, Gran."

"Would you like to go for some lunch in Diagon Alley?" Augusta didn't smile, but she almost felt like it. "We have a lot to catch up on."

"That sounds nice." Neville and Augusta started towards the entryway again.

"Now, just how close are you to that Lovegood girl? And what about Ginevra Weasley? Didn't you two date last year? And didn't you try to date that Granger girl?"

"Oh, Gran."


End file.
